


Tattooed hearts.

by avengeontitan



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-19 14:15:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5970019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengeontitan/pseuds/avengeontitan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Pendragon had always done what as his father told him, but when he is forced to leave his home, he ends up in a place he never thought he would get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pain and dragons

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I wanted to thank/credit the amazing and kind @dear.dolluphead on instagram, who wrote the one-shot this was based on. Thank you so much for letting me write this!  
> I also wanted to say that seeing as english isn't my first language, I would really appreciate that if anyone find some dumb spelling mistakes or grammatical errors, please let me know so I can fix it. I'm also not quite friends with the format of ao3 yet, so i don't know if the text looks weird or anything...
> 
> -
> 
> Enjoy the first chapter!

Arthur had always done as his father said. If his father told him to date that girl, he dated that girl, if his father told him to take up that hobby, he did.  
All so that his father’s reputation would be as good as possible. His father was the prime minister, and with that, came a lot of responsibilities, and Arthur was dragged into the middle of all of it.  
He was the golden boy of the united kingdoms. But that all changed when his father caught him kissing the gardener. The male gardener.  
Arthur thought he had seen his father angry before, but this was not like anything he had ever experienced. Uther grabbed onto his arm and hauled him inside the house. Uther was screaming, breaking priceless items, and when Arthur’s adoptive sister, Morgana, tried to come downstairs, Uther yelled at her to go back into her room and close the door. Morgana had never before listened to Uther’s commands, but this time she did, with one last look at Arthur, she turned around and walked back up the stairs, her shoulders which she usually kept up with pride and confidence, hunched. Uther grabbed ahold of Arhur’s jaw so tight that Arthur was sure he was going to have bruises. “What if someone had seen you?! DO you have any idea what that would have done to my reputation?! Do you?!” Arthur twisted himself out of Uther’s grasp, and rubbed his sore jaw. “Did it look like I gave a single fuck? I have always done exactly as you told me! Always! Why can’t you let me have this one thing that is genuinely me?!” And then the impossible happened. The back of Uther hands struck the side of Arthur’s face. One of his rings tore at the skin just beneath his eye, and Arthur felt blood trickle down his cheek, as his eye water. “I didn’t raise a faggot. This is not you.” Uther’s voice was low and dangerous. Arthur felt something snap in him. “You’re right, father. You didn’t raise a faggot. You didn’t raise a son at all. Because you don’t have one.” And with that, he grabbed his coat and left. 

As he was wandering the streets, things began to dawn for Arthur. He could not possibly return home. He only had the clothes on his back, his phone, and his wallet with was in the pocket of his jacket, luckily. He could probably get Morgana to bring him some clothes, but he didn’t have any friends close enough to coax into let him stay. All of his friends, he realized, he had befriended because Uther had told him to.  
He kicked a pebble on the road, with skipped unstatisfactory half a meter to the side, and settled in the grass on the side of the sidewalk. Looking up, Arthur realized he had no idea where he was. He didn’t know how long he had been walking, but he was far from home, that was for sure. He was standing outside a tattoo parlour. It was dark outside, but the lights inside were still on. He knew that Uther would rather see him dead than let him go inside such a place, and that was exactly why Arthur entered. 

 

Inside, the place looked clean enough, but smelled vaguely like cigarettes. In a corner, a giant of a man was getting a his chest tattooed by a young black girl, her hair dyed a screaming shade of red, and tied to a knot on the base of her neck. Arthur walked insecurely towards the desk, which stood straight ahead from the door. Every single surface of the parlour was covered by artworks or news articles praising the place. Arthur took that as a good sign. “How can I help you?” A bloke about his own age had walked up behind the counter, and Arthur snapped to. “Uh, I want a tattoo?” He asked, not sure what to say. The boy behind the counter smiled, a small ring at the corner of his lip catching the light from an above lamp. He was absolutely gorgeous, in a dangerous, rebellious, punk kind of way. His skin was pale, and his eyes were piercingly blue. He was probably about Arthur’s height, but he seemed taller, in the same way a lot of dancer’s did, with long, willowy limbs and a long neck.  
Although not a lot of dancers had constellations of tattoos on their body or long hair tied back, with a sharply shaved undercut. This boy had both. “We don’t do drop inns that often, but I guess I could do you.” The boy said, and Arthur felt himself grow hot. “Do your tattoo, idiot.” He grinned. “Do you have a sketch or a reference picture of some sorts, or do you want me to draw you one?” Arthur really hadn’t thought that far. “Um, if you could do one, that would be great?”  
The boy grinned, and it was clear that he liked the answer he got. “Alright, come here, and we can see what I can do for you!” He gestured to a couple of chairs which stood around a small coffee table. As Arthur walked over and sat on the edge of one of the chairs, the boy shouted over his shoulder at the girl in the back.  
“Hey, Gwen! Can you keep half an eye at the desk?” She flipped him off as she continued on her piece, and the boy smiled. “Love you!”  
When he sat down across from Arthur, he saw that he had brought a sketchpad and a pencil with him.  
“So, is this your first?” Arthur nodded, feeling slightly nervous. “Where were you thinking you would want it?” Arthur actually had thought of this before.  
“The back of my right shoulder.” He patted the spot. “Big, small, medium?” The boy was studying his face now, and Arthur could feel himself heating up under his gaze. “Big.” The boy cracked a smile, let out a gentle laugh. “Diving straight into the deep end, eh?”  
Arthur let himself laugh with him, but when he smiled, he felt the cut under his cheek rip open again, and felt some blood trickle down his cheek.  
“Oh, fuck!” The boy exclaimed. “What happened to you, mate?”  
He got up, and came back with a paper towel in his hand, patting it gently on Arthur’s cheek.  
“Long story.” He muttered, accepting the towel, keeping it pressed against his cheek as the boy sat down again.  
“Well, you can tell me later, if you feel like it. You’d be surprised with some of the thing people confess under the needle.” He smiled at Arthur again, this time, a lot gentler, almost sympathetic.  
“Did you have a motive in mind?” He asked, and Arthur nodded. “A dragon. But not like, the classical dragon tattoos, you know the asian dragons?”  
The boy nodded. “I was thinking more like, cave painting style?”  
The more Arthur explained his vision, the clearer it came to him, and the more comfortable he felt.  
As he was talking, the boy opposite him was sketching like a madman. Even after Arthur had finished, the boy kept his head down, tearing out a page, and starting over again. After a minute or two, he looked up.  
“I really like your idea, so, here are a few suggestions.” He laid down three sketches.  
“Come with any suggestion you like, and remember, this is going to be on your skin forever.” Arthur nodded, and looked at the sketches. They were all gorgeous, and pictured dragons in different poses, two of them with their mouth open, baring long fangs, and spewing fire. But it was the last one that Arthur really fell for. It was a dragon, it’s wings partially opened, crawling on all fours on the edge of a hill. It’s tail sneaking down the side, and ending in a feather like point. On it’s back were multiple spikes, as well along its jaw. He gently tapped the sketch with his finger. “This one. I really like it. You are an amazing artist.” The boy grinned. Thank you! Did you have any colours in mind, or?” Arthur nodded. “Actually, if its possible, Can you do it in all red?” the boy nodded. I can do that!”

“I’m Merlin, by the way.” He said, as he led Arthur into the back of the studio, Into a more private chair. “Arthur. Pleasure.”  
Arthur nervously wiped his hands on his jeans, as Merlin walked over to a shelf with multiple bottles in different colours.  
“you can hang your jacket and your shirt over there.” Without turning around, he pointed to a row of coat hangers by the door.  
In the middle of the room, stood a chair, and beside there, a small table with some magazines on. There was a small window on the wall opposite the door, but that showed nothing but a grey backyard.  
Arthur took of his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt, and as he did, he stared at Merlin’s back. He was wearing a black tank top, and from what Arthur could see, his back was also covered in tattoos. When Arthur had hung his shirt over his jacket and sat down in the chair, Merlin turned around, and dragged a rolling stool with him. He was wearing purple rubber gloves on both of his hands. In one of his hands, he had a small container of some sort of cream.  
“Numbing cream. We always use that on the first timers.” He commanded Arthur to sit the other way around, his arms folded over the back of the chair, as Merlin smeared the cold cream over his right shoulder.  
“I’m going to draw on you with a sharpie first, so I have the basic outline. Have you ever had any allergic reaction to sharpie?” Arthur shook his head. “not that I know of?” Merlin laughed, a light, pleasing sound. “You would have known.” The ink from the sharpie was cold, or maybe that was just the numbing cream setting in. “Can you feel this?” Merlin asked, and Arthur shook his head. “Good. I pinched you to see of the cream was working.” Arthur swallowed, the reality of thing setting in over him. Merlin rolled back over to the shelf, bringing the tattooing pen with him, as well as a pedal which operated the needle, which he explained.  
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked. “When this needle touches your skin, that’s the point of no return.”  
Arthur nodded, never being more sure of anything in his entire life. “I am sure.”  
Merlin nodded, and Arthur could hear the buzzing the needle. “The most important thing is that you don’t hold your breath.” Merlin explained.  
“If you do, you might vomit or pass out, neither of which are especially desirable outcomes.” Arthur nodded, and let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. The pain wasn’t as bad as he had expected. “So, now that you are under my needle, do you want to explain what happened to your face?”  
Arthur chewed on his lip, not sure where to begin. “my father, he… He is very controlling, and very sure that he knows me better than anyone else.”  
He felt Merlin pull the needle away from his skin and wipe his back with a paper towel. “That’s usually not a good start to any relationship.” Arthur let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, I realize that now, but it always seemed so much easier to follow his commands. And when I finally did one thing for me, he lost it. Yelling, breaking shit, and when he hit me, I left.” Merlin wiped his back again, and Arthur winced when he drew the needles over a sore spot. “What did you do?”  
Arthur picked at a loose thread on his pants as he replied. “Kissed a bloke. ‘t wasn’t even anything serious.”  
Merlin pulled back, rolling his chair in front of Arthur, his blue eyes staring insistingly into Arthurs. “Are you kidding me? Just because?!” He rubbed his forehead with the palm of a rubber gloved hand.  
“Fuck mate, that… that’s fucked up.” Arthur shrugged. “My biggest problem at the moment is that I have nowhere to stay.”  
Merlin shook his head. “That wont do it. Me and Gwen, the girl out there, we have a couch you can stay on. For as long as you need.”  
Arthur was completely taken aback by this suggestion. He had never experienced this kind of kindness from a stranger. “We close up in an hour or two, depending on when I’m done with you. And then you are coming with us.” It was Arthur got no say in the matter, and he genuinely did not mind. 

 

An hour and many laughs later, Merlin declared Arthur finished. He helped Arthur out of the chair, and laughed at how silly he walked, since he had literally no blood in his legs. He guided Arthur out of the room, grabbing his shirt and his jacket on the way out. “I cant wait for you to see it. This has to be one of my favorites ever.” Merlin was like a small child, guiding Arthur over to a full length mirror by the counter in the main part of the parlour. Arthur couldn’t help himself, his jaw dropped to the floor. On the back of his shoulder, a red dragon snaked its way up a hill, its wings slightly parted. Although the tattoo wasn’t very detailed, it looked almost life like. “Nice one, Mer!” The girl, Gwen, had come up behind Arthur, one hand loosely slung over Merlin’s shoulder. 

 

Before they left, Merlin wrapped some plastic wrap with some cream on it around Arthur’s ribs and shoulder. The air outside was crisp and cold when they left the parlour. Gwen locked the door behind them, and muttered something to Merlin about getting a cab. “We aren’t walking?” Arthur asked, and Merlin laughed. “Too far. We are taking the bike, you comfortable with that?” Arthur nodded, his hands in his pocket to shield them from the biting air. “Gwen usually rides with me, but we cant fit three on it.” They arrived at the corner of the block, where a beast of a motorcycle stood parked. It was a Harley Davidson of some sort, painted red and black. Merlin opened a small compartment under the seat, and tossed a helmet at Arthur, who clumsily caught it. Merlin let down his hair, which fell at about shoulder length, before he put his helmet on. Arthur felt himself staring, before he snapped out of it, and put his helmet on. Merlin was already sitting astride the bike, supporting himself on one leg, leaning over. “Hop on, have you ever been on a bike before?” Arthur shook his head. Merlin took Arthur’s hand, and helped him up, showing him where to sit, and when he had adjusted himself into place, he guided Arthur’s arms around his waist. He flipped the visor of his helmet up, giving Arthur a confident smile and a “Hold on!” before flipping the visor back into its place, and kicking the bike to life with a monstrous roar. 

Arthur couldn’t tell if Merlin was an amazing or a terrible driver. Ten minutes and a thousand jerking stop and starts later, Merlin stopped to a halt outside an apartment building. It looked surprisingly nice for some one looking like- No. Merlin was nice to him, he couldn’t go around being all snobby. “This looks nice!” Arthur said, as he got of the bike, his legs stiff from the cold. “Yeah, if you look away from the angry homophobic ladies on the first floor.” Merlin laughed, pulling his helmet off, shaking his hair out. “It could be a couple minutes before Gwen gets here, so I could show you mi casa.” He shoved the door open, bowing for Arthur as he entered the hallway. They took the elevator up to the top floor, and entered the last door on the right. When Arthur entered, he felt his mouth fall open. The flat was huge, much bigger than he had expected. They entered directly into a living room, which led to the kitchen on the to the left of the entrance, there were two more doors, both of them leading to a bedroom each. One of the walls in the living room was mad of glass, so Arthur could practically see all of London from there. The other walls were either covered in bookshelves or artworks, similar to the ones at the parlour. “This is… Wow!” Arthur muttered, fumbling with his shoelaces to get them open. “It’s home. Help yourself to anything you need in the kitchen. But, as your tattoo artist I must advise you not to drink too much alcohol, as your tattoo might bleed more if you do.” He tossed away his own shoes before he walked into one of the bedrooms, and came out moments later with a towel. “I’m going to take a shower, make yourself at home.” The bathroom was next to the kitchen, and after Merlin left, Arthur was left standing in the middle of the room. How had this day ended up here. “Hey man!” Arthur spun around, and was by Gwen’s friendly smile. “How you enjoying casa del Gwenlin so far?”  
She shrugged off her jacket, before holding out her hand. “Gwenodlyne, by the way. I understand that you are Arthur?” Arthur nodded before shaking her hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong for such a petite girl. “So…” Arthur couldn’t really think of something to say. “How long have you and Merlin been together?” Gwen raised a pierced eyebrow. “You haven’t seen his bedroom yet, have you.” This wasn’t a question, as much as a statement. She grabbed Arthur’s arm, and pulled him to the doorway of Merlin’s room. Arthur didn’t see how this could prove that they were not together, maybe one of them snored, so they would have to have separate bedrooms? And then he noticed the giant flag suspended over Merlin’s bed. “He’s gay.” He deadpanned. “And extremely so. And I get that you are too?” Gwen glanced accusingly at Arthur who backed away in surprise. “I never said tha-?” Gwen raised her eyebrow again, an impressively perfect arch. “My gaydar is one of the best on this side of the pacific.” Arthur didn’t even know what to answer to that. “D’ya want some food? I can make some soup ‘r something?” Arthur hadn’t noticed how hungry he was before she asked. 

 

Some time later he, Merlin and Gwen sat together around the table in the living room, laughing, eating and enjoying themselves. Gwen had just finished a story about a cover up she had done once, on a guy who tattooed his ex’s initials on his penis. “Some people get flowers and shit, he got a fucking tattoo on his dick.” Arthur almost snorted on his soup, and ended up coughing, bent over the edge of his chair, while Merlin laughed and patted his back. When he sat back up, Merlin hand rested on his back for a second longer, rubbing between his shoulders. Gwen smiled at him, before she placed down her spoon. “I have to go. I have promised Suzanna to take her to a concert.” Merlin waved her a goodbye before she closed the door and left Arthur and Merlin alone. “I think I’m going to hit the hay, I can clean up here if you want to take a shower first?” Arthur nodded and thanked him. Merlin found a spare toothbrush for him, and showed him where the towels were, before Arthur got into the shower. when he got out, he saw that Merlin had gone to bed, as his door was closed. The couch was prepared, with a duvet and extra pillows, and it didn't take Arthur long to fall asleep.


	2. I'm bad with chapter titles, Eyy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin meets Morgana, Morgana meets Gwen, and Arthur learns something about his housemate he will never forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY PLEASE READ THIS  
> I DONT KNOW HOW TO PUT IT, BUT A BIT OUT IN THIS CHAPTER THERE IS TALK ABOUT RAPE, AND A CHARACTER HAS A PANIC ATTACK! SO THIS IS YOUR WARNING. ONLY READ THIS, IF YOU ARE OKAY WITH READING ABOUT IT. PLEASE BE SAFE.

He was awaken an hour or so later, by a noise he couldn’t place. It was annoying, and loud, and OH SHIT his phone was ringing. He dove after his phone, which was on the other side of the coffee table, and hoped he hadn’t woken anybody up. On his screen, Morgana’s name and number flashed, and by the small symbols on the top of his screen, he could tell it wasn’t the first time she’d called.  
“ h’lo?” He muttered, his voice hoarse from sleep. He heard a relieved sigh from the other side, and felt a pang of guilt. “Oh my god, Arthur! Are you alright? Are you hurt? Where are you?”   
He could almost feel her worry, and immediately felt bad for not contacting her and telling her that he was okay. “Slow down, Mo. Slow down.” He rubbed his eyes with one hand. “I’m okay, a bit tired, that is all.” He heard someone mutter something on the other side of the line, and Morgana replied with something Arthur couldn’t quite catch. “Where are you?” he asked. “I’m at a friend's, Uther wouldn’t let me call you from our place, so I said I was going to a party. He wouldn’t even leave me alone in my room.” Arthur sighed, of course his father would take his frustration out on Morgana. “Well, I’m okay. The only thing is… Do you think that you could bring me some of my clothes? I have a place to stay, but no clothes.” “I can do that.” Morgana sounded decidedly suspicious. “But where are you staying? You aren’t with any of your friends, i have contacted all of whom I know about.”   
Arthur sighed, and leaned back on the couch. “It’s a long story. I cant tell you tomorrow? When you bring me clothes. Maybe you can even meet them.”   
Morgana muttered a reply. “Just. Make sure you’re safe? I don’t want to lose you.” This took Arthur by surprise. He and Morgana had been close when they were younger, but they had drifted apart as they grew older, and when Morgana’s parents passed away she had pushed everyone away. But then again, who wouldn’t react like that. “I will be. See you tomorrow.” “See you. Be safe.” He couldn’t help but sit and hold the silent phone for a second, everything dawning on him. He couldn’t go back. He could probably never go home. And for the first time in many, many years, Arthur Pendragon cried.

He didn’t even realize that he’d fallen asleep, but when Merlin nudged him awake, he definitely wasn’t conscious.   
“Wakey- wakey, I have breakfast…” Arthur mumbled something into his pillow, and lifted his head. Merlin laughed, and again, Arthur was taken aback at how genuinely happy a sound could be. “d’ I smel baocn?” Merlin nodded. “Did you just have a stroke, by the way? Because if you did, I’m not driving you to the hospital until I have my coffee, so you can just drool on the carpet until I’m caffeinated.”   
Arthur sat up and rubbed his eyes, before he blinked a couple of times. His eyes focused on Merlin, who had his back turned on him. He was shirtless, his grey pajama pant clinging loosely to his hips. His hair was tied loosely into a low bun, and his entire back off tattoos was for the first time displayed to Arthur. On the lower left part of his ribs, there was a skeleton, hunched over, looking away from Arthur, while covering it’s face, like it was crying, a couple ribs were cracked, and there was a piece of the skull missing. It seemed so raw and personal, that Arthur didn’t know if he should ask about it or not. On his upper right shoulder, some flowers were splayed out. But they weren’t any flower that Arthur had ever seen before. Their petals were bent and sharp, but still maintained a sort of flowy softness to them, and they appeared to be glowing golden. His staring was abruptly cut short when Merlin turned around. “How do you want your eggs?” He asked, smirking, like he knew Arthur had been staring. “Uhhh… Like, not raw?”

Several cups of coffee and some not-raw eggs later, Merlin and Arthur sat opposite each other by the table, staring out the massive glass window.   
“My sister wants to meet you.” Arthur deadpanned. Merlin almost choked on his coffee, and had to repeatedly punch himself in the chest to regain his composure. “Excuse me?” Merlin looked shocked, to say the least. Shocked and slightly scared.   
“If she’s anything like your father, I-” “She isn’t.” Arthur interrupted. “She wanted to make sure you’re not going to kidnap me, or anything like that. And I need clothes, soo.” Merlin nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”   
He grabbed his and Arthur’s plate, and went to go clean them up. “I don’t have to work today, by the way. So if there’s anything you want to do, just let me know.” Arthur nodded. “Why are you being so nice to me? I don’t really know you.”   
Merlin turned around, his hands crossed over his chest, plates in the sink. “Well, first of all, Karma is a small part of it. You know, the whole ‘putting positive energy into the world and good things will happen to you.’ thing” Arthur nodded.   
“Second, I have been in your shoes once, and that was no good. I might tell you that story some day.” Merlin pushed himself of the counter, and leaned on the table where Arthur was still seated. “And also, I thought you were really cute. So I thought that if someone up there,” He pointed to the ceiling. “gave me such an amazing opportunity to get to know someone like you, I cant possibly pass that up.” Arthur didn’t know what to say, and was left blinking stupidly.   
Merlin tapped the table with his fingers, and Arthur noticed that his fingernails were painted black.   
“I’ll get dressed, and then I have to run a few errands. You can come if you want?” Arthur knew that it’d be weird if he stayed behind, so he agreed to come. Merlin smiled at him, before closing the door to his room, leaving Arthur to get dressed in the bathroom.   
When he came out again, he had a hard time to keep himself from actually drooling on the floor. Wow, he thought. I am so gay.   
Merlin was dressed in a dark purple suit jacket and blue jeans that fit just tight enough and was ripped in all the right places. His hair was tied back in a ponytail, showing off his undercut. Arthur felt like he had suddenly had become asthmatic, and couldn't quite draw air into is lungs. Merlin did a half spin, and a mocking bow. “Is it weird that I’m kinda scared to meet your sister? Like, we’re not even dating or anything.” Merlin laughed nervously, and tucked his hands into his pockets, raising his shoulders.   
“She’s probably not going to bite.” “Probably?” Arthur let out a shaky laugh. “If you ask her too, I guess she could-” Merlin cut him off with a hand gesture. “No. I am way too homosexual for this.” He put on his shoes, and tossed Arthur his jacket. “lets go. I have to go to a couple shops for some art supplies.”

A couple hours, and a fuckton of paint swatching later, Merlin and Arthur sat on an outside table on a riverside café. Merlin sat turned in his chair, lazily sketching something in his book, but when Arthur tried to lean over and see it, he turned it away. “Not yet, It’s not finished!” Merlin stuck his tongue out in a mocking gesture, just as Arthur spotted Morgana and waved.   
She hadn’t noticed them yet, but when she did, she almost dropped the duffel bag she was carrying. She broke into a sprint, and almost knocked Arthur out of his chair. Her hair was everywhere, and Merlin had to lean back in his chair to not get hit by an avalanche of bodies.   
“Oh MY GOD!” Arthur could hear that she had been crying, her voice was raw, and hoarse. “I almost thought I’d never see you again.” When she let go, Merlin stood up, and held out his hand.   
“I’m Merlin Emrys,” He said, when Morgana grabbed his hand. “I’m the crazy necrophilic maniac who plans on wearing your brother’s skin for dinner this evening.” Morgana laughed, and Arthur felt a weight lift off his shoulders. They were going to get along just fine. “I brought you your clothes.” Morgana said suddenly, and threw the duffel bag at him. “I didn’t know what kind of clothes you needed so I packed a bit of everything.”   
She sat down in a chair opposite them, and crossed her arms. “But what I still cant put together, is how my brother ended up in your home?”   
Merlin laughed. “Well, it certainly wasn’t easy. I needed enough tranquilizer to take down a large bull, and a getaway car.” Morgana laughed, leaning her head back, her long dark hair fallen off her shoulders. “No, but seriously though, How?” Merlin looked at Arthur, who just nodded. The story had to bet out at some point anyway “Well, it was late. And me and a friend, we have this tattoo shop together, downtown. And so this guy walks in, looking like he has personally been through all seven circles of hell, just to be kicked in the balls and told that he has to do it all over.”   
Arthur raised his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that bad.” Merlin smirked at him, and leaned towards Morgana. “Trust me, it was worse.”  
When he leaned back, his arms were crossed, and his sleeves had balled themselves up a bit, showing off a few of his tattoos.   
“So, this man, comes up to the desk and asks for a tattoo, and while I have a fucking needle to this guy’s skin,” Merlin bumbed his elbow lightly in Arthur’s side. “He confesses that he’s homeless. Thrown out by an unaccepting ass of a father, No offense.” Morgana just nodds."none taken."   
“And now we’re here.” He pulled his one of his legs up, resting his ankle up on his thigh. “wait,” Morgana turned to face Arthur a mischievous smirk plastered on her pretty face. “You got a tattoo?”   
Arthur scratched the back of his head. “I did… It’s not much to look at yet, it’s kinda… crusty.” Morgana shrugged. “You need to send me a picture when it’s healed.” She started to get out of her chair, and brushed non-exsisting folds out of her shirt. “I have to go. Arthur, call me.”   
She gave him a final hug before she left, and with heels clicking confidently on the pavement, she vanished in the crowds.   
Merlin leaned back in his chair and brushed a hand over his face. “That went so much better than anticipated.” He stated.   
“I was almost expecting her to pepperspray me.” Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Morgana? She wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Merlin mimicked his expression. “Really? She looked like Black Widow’s classy sister. So intimidating.” For some reason Arthur thought back to the guy Gwen was tattooing the day he was in the shop. He and Merlin clearly had two very different opinions on what was intimidating. 

Gwen and Morgana clicked like no two people Merlin and Arthur had ever seen. Morgana had been over for dinner one evening, and the entire night, the two of them did not stopped talking once. Arthur had never seen Morgana like this with anyone, and when they stood together outside the building to say goodbye, she looked almost high. “Gwen is great, isn’t she?” Arthur nodded. “Yeah… She’s… Nice?”   
Over the next few days, Morgana came over more and more often. She even started visiting Gwen at work a few times. Merlin had offered Arthur a job there, minding the desk, claiming that; “A face like that has got to draw in a few customers.”   
It all seemed to go in the right direction for Arthur. Or, as good as it could get, living on a couch at a friends house. But one night, he got a painful reminder that he didn’t know his housemate as much as he thought he did. 

He was half asleep when Merlin barged out of his room. It was late, the only light coming from the city below through the window. He started banging on Gwen’s bedroom door, but she had gone out with Morgana earlier, and not returned yet. One arm was frantically banging on the door, while the other was bent in an awkward angle over his head, nails raking on the skin of his neck and between his shoulder blades. “Gwen, Gwen please. Gwen…”   
Arthur heard to his surprise that Merlin was crying. He got out of the makeshift sofa-bed, and grabbed Merlin’s underarm, twisting him to face him. Merlin’s face had panic written all over it. “Ice cubes. In the freezer over the fridge.” Arthur didn’t question it. Merlin’s breathing was so shallow he was afraid he might start hyperventilating if he got any more upset. Arthur ordered Merlin to sit on the couch, while he hurried to grab the ice from above the fridge.   
When he returned, he had a fistful of ice in his hand. The cold hurt his fingers, numbing them slightly. He handed a few to Merlin, who bent his arms again, pressing the cold cubes to two spots on the upper part of his back, near his neck. “Can you.. um….” He stopped for a second, drawing a shaky breath. “The scar, the middle of my back.” Arthur hadn’t seen Merlin shirtless that many times, and he never noticed the small, circular scar on the middle of is back. He pressed the ice on, feeling Merlin’s shallow breathing moving his hand.   
After a couple moments of them sitting there in silence, Merlin’s breathing finally returned to normal. He threw small remaining pieces of ice on the table, and flopped back against the couch, wiping his face with a shaky hand.   
“Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” He punched a pillow lying by his arm, Arthur reached out, and grabbed onto his arm.   
“Hey, mate… calm down… It’s okay…” Merlin turned to him, face streaked with tears. “But its not, is it? I have gone four months now, without a panic attack. Four months, without freaking out over what He did to me.” Merlin said “He” as it was a name, a person Arthur should know about, and while he was talking, he was gesticulating aggressively.   
“I’m sorry, ju-just go back to sleep.” Merlin was stuttering, stumbling over his words, clearly still upset, and as he stood up to leave, Arthur grabbed his arm, pulling him down to the couch again.   
“Talk to me. Please.” When Merlin sat back down, all his energy seemed to seep out from him. His shoulders slumped, and he leaned his head in his hands for a second, before running them through his hair. “I… I owe you an explanation.”   
Arthur decided it was best for him not to say anything, so he only stroked Merlin’s shoulder reassuringly. “Two years ago, I was living in a small, extremely religious town far north from here. I lived with my mum, and she knew I was gay, and accepted me for who I am. But I got beat up pretty regularly. Usually in the back of diners or parking lots. People didn’t like me being so open about who I am, but I didn’t care.”   
He sighed, and rubbed his eyes with his palms. “And then I moved to London, and met my now ex-boyfriend. He was extremely closeted, and didn’t let me meet any of his friends. But I actually loved him. He was kind to me.” Merlin drew a shaky breath, and turned to Arthur.   
“Then one night, he had invited me over to his place. And when I enter, I’m knocked out. And when I wake up, I’m tied up. My entire body hurts. And…”   
Merlin pauses, and holds his hands up in front of himself, and he is shaking, shivering, like he was out in the cold wind. “I’m lying on my stomach, my pants were balled at my ankles… I knew what had happened, but I just couldn’t… I couldn’t… And he was sitting right next to me on the bed, smoking. And when I begged him to let me go.. He burnt me. First, just ash, on my neck, but then… He pressed it, the cigarette into my skin… You saw where the scars are…”   
Arthur didn’t know what to do, or say, but his body reacted before he could think. He reached out for Merlin, and pulled the skinny boy into his chest.  
Merlin balled up between Arthur’s legs, and rested his head on his chest. “Thank you, Arthur.” Arthur mumbled a “don’t mention it, before they both drifted off.


	3. Oh, shit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know this is really short, but my brain has been all over the place recently. 
> 
> sorry.

Arthur woke up when Gwen came through the front door, her keys ringing softly as she put them back into her pocket.   
He carefully sat up, holding Merlin’s head so he wouldn’t wake up. “Gwen?”   
She just smiled, waving at him. “D’ya want some coffee?” It seemed like a strange question to ask, but he agreed. It was five in the morning, and Arthur seriously doubted he would be able to sleep any more anyways. Gwen ran a hand through her hair, and leaned against the counter, watching as Arthur carefully tried to wrangle his limbs loose from Merlin’s, cautious not to wake him up. When he succeded, he stood there for a second, looking down at Merlin.   
He looked so peaceful, but, Arthur noted, he also drooled. “Your friend drooled on me.” He smiled, as he accepted a cup from Gwen, the heat of the cup waking him up slightly. “If you ever hurt him I’m going to pull the insides of your testicles out through your nostrils.” Arthur had been in the process of taking a sip of coffee, but instead ending up inhaling a mouthful instead, coughing and doubling over, as Gwen watched mercilessly. The ting was, Gwen was probably more than a foot shorter than him, but he didn’t doubt her for a second. Merlin stirred slightly in his sleep, and Gwen’s head immediately shot in his direction. “He is like the brother I never knew I wanted to me. If anyone hurts him, they hurt me. And you don’t want to hurt me, because I’m fucking crazy.” She patted Arthur’s shoulder. “I’m going to take a shower. Wake Merlin up for me, will you?” Arthur was about to protest, he had no idea what to say after the incidents of the previous night. He’d never been good with those sorts of things, they were always Morgana’s area of expertise. His father had reinforced the stereotypical gender roles in their family. Morgana was sweet and caring, while Arthur was supposed to be brooding and powerful. But in the course of the last few weeks, Arthur had felt all that being torn away from him. He was a new person now. He felt that now. He was a new person, with a droolstain on his shirt. 

Merlin knew he was in to deep when Arthur ate the last pancake. If it’d been Gwen, there would be blood spilled by now, but Merlin couldnt find it in himself to get worked up about it. Arthur had smiled at Merlin, and thanked him for the meal, and Merlin didn’t feel like sucker-punching the man in the jaw. Even Gwen looked surprised. This was just a week after Arthur and Merlin had met. And it just got worse, like that time Arthur placed a plate on top of the dishwasher instead of putting it straight into the dishwasher. Merlin just sighed internally. Well, well, He thought, and put it away.   
Merlin would find himself staring at Arthur from time to time. When he stood by the desk in the parlour, attempting small-talk with one of the customers. Merlin had noticed how Arthur would rake his hand through his hair when he laughed if he was nervous. If he saw that happen, he would try and swoop in, if that were possible. He loved seeing how Arthur got more and more comfortable around the people coming through the parlour, and he had to swoop in less and less. And then one morning, when they arrived at work, things started going bad.

Blood red, the letters seemed to be screaming at the small trio in the early morning. The window was shattered, and on the floor of the parlour, in addition to what Merlin would describe as “a FUCKTON of glass” Was the word “Faggots” Spraypainted in angry, red letters. Gwen was standing there, eyes wide like she couldn’t quite believe what had happened. Merlin just sighed, and stepped through the window, the glass shattering underneath his feet.   
“Not again…” He muttered, his voice faint. “I swear to God.” He kicked some pieces of glass, which flew and hit the wall opposite of him, as he screamed and pulled on his own hair, tears staining his face. “fuck, Fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK SHIT MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF GODDAMN SHIT IM GOING TO FUCKING STAB A BITCH!” Gwen’s hands slowly raised up to cover her mouth as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Merlin sunk down to his knees, his hands in his hair, and tears stained his cheeks. Arthur didn’t know what he should do with himself. He had never seen anything like this in his entire life, and now it was here, in front of him, real. His father had used that word a lot, but it didn’t have any meaning in his head before now. It was disgusting, it made him feel sick, it made him feel like there was something wrong with him, which he had thought himself plenty of times. But now, now there was someone reassuring these thoughts. And they were insisting enough to do hundreds of pounds in property damage to get their point across. He felt himself dizzying, the world whizzing past his ears, Gwen was calling someone, but he didn’t hear what she was saying. Gwen hung up, and patted Arthur on his shoulder when she passed him, kneeling down next to Merlin in the glass, the shards cutting through her pants and into the skin of her knees, as she helped him to his feet, and Arthur could only stay and watch. He had done this, he realized, when he didn’t stop his ex-mates from saying cruel things about “his kind.” He had done this when he just listened to his father recite his speeches, making “his kind” the common enemy. He hadn’t realized that it had an impact. They had only been words, hadnt they? Words that now were sprayed on the floor of his best friends safe space. He was still standing in the same spot when the cops arrived. A police lady with a kind round face put a hand on his shoulder, and guided him over to one of the cars, where she urged him to sit on the hood and tell her what had happened. Arthur explained that it had been that way when they arrived, and he had no idea who could have done it. A small crowd had gathered, as most people would be getting to work now. He walked by a couple of boys on the edge of the group to find Merlin when he heard one of them say to his mates, “What did they expect, bloody queers. I would’ve done it myself, if these guys hadnt done it before me.” Arthur didn’t know what happened, but the next thing he knew, he was on his stomach, his arms behind his back, a cop towering over him, yelling at him. He didn’t even bother to listen to what he was saying. The only thing he saw was Merlin’s face staring at him in the middle of the crowd, Gwen by his side, her hands covering her mouth again. He could only imagine what this looked like from their point of view. Him attacking four bystanders, probably smashing a couple of ribs on two of them, before the cops broke it off. He mouthed the words “Im sorry” as he was forced into one of the cars.

The cops didn’t take long to realize who he was, and they were almost tempted to let him go, seeing as arresting the prime ministers son was not exactly a thing you did. You could just as well sign a contract saying “I accept that I will never have a quiet moment again, and I accept screaming fans and paparazzi.” But they decided against it, as Arthur looked like a threat, with his bloody knuckles, and several bruises forming of his face. When they arrived at the station, Arthur wasn’t put into one of the normal holding cells, but rather got his own, where he promptly sat down on the bench, staring gloomily out on the people of the station, his cuffed hands hanging down between his legs. His thoughts were racing, not seeming to cool down anytime soon. They went in a loop, and always returning to the same question; “would Merlin hate him now?” The voice in Arthur’s head told him yes, of course. And he felt sick just thinking about it. He could not for his life shake the feeling of his entire life crashing down around his ears if he lost Merlin. It wasn’t a feeling he enjoyed, it made him so uncomfortable, having his happiness (no, sanity.) depend on another person like that. Arthur didn’t know how long had passed when the door was unlocked. Partially obstructed by the bars of the cell, the worst possible outcome of the situation was looking back at him. Arthur shot up, stepping backwards as his father stepped into the cell. Arthur’s brain seemed to short-circuit.   
He could not form comprihensible sentences. All that stood in his brain was one though, “I cant go back there. I cant.”   
Arthur felt his knees go weak, and the world was spinning around him. His father held an arm out towards him, and Arthur wanted to protest, but something in his father’s eyes told him that the situation would become much worse if he protested. He walked into his father’s one armed embrace, and was guided out. His father’s arm was tight around his shoulders, his fingers digging into his arm, probably leaving bruises. “I’ve missed you.” Uther muttered to Arthur, and gently shook his shoulder, and Arthur almost vomited.


End file.
